


see it with the lights out

by magisterequitum



Category: Psy-Changeling - Nalini Singh
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 18:49:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2518079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterequitum/pseuds/magisterequitum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If anyone were to frequently see them in the apartment, they would realize just how normal this scene is. Naya does her readings and Julian pretends to behave and let her get her work done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	see it with the lights out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [empressearwig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/empressearwig/gifts).



> Written for Jess's prompt of "someone straddling the other while they’re “trying to read” and slowly getting them to put the book away". It got too big for Tumblr answer.

It's a wonder they fit on her small couch. Here, in her modest apartment in New York, they like the fact that it's just them. There's no family here. No Pack. Friends, but not in the way it would be if they were truly home in San Francisco. They are free in their touching of one another. It's entirely domestic, their behavior. And so even though Naya herself is not short, and Julian certainly isn't, they cram onto her couch. 

If anyone were to frequently see them in the apartment, they would realize just how normal this scene is. Naya does her readings and Julian pretends to behave and let her get her work done. Sometimes he watches a game on the entertainment set, sometimes he reads his own things, but most often he drifts lazily in some rest place that's not quite sleep. 

As it is, Naya's got her back against one arm's end, legs stretched out, toes brushing the opposite side. Julian's heavy weight rests between her legs, his back against her chest, his legs hanging over the other end's arm. Her medical textbook rests atop his head. 

She turns the pages with one hand and with the other soothes the exposed skin on the side of his neck, a backwards and forwards pattern. It's repetitive. The movement doesn't break her concentration.

What does is the way Julian draws figures and shapes over the bare skin of her inner right calf. The callouses on his fingertips tickle her ankle bone. His thumb presses hard into the firm tendon. 

Frowning, Naya can't keep her hips from shifting. Her blood beats loud in her ears. The words in her textbook become blurry. "Stop it," she murmurs, curling her fingers so her nails dig into his neck. A warning. 

She can't see his face, but she knows he's probably smiling as he says, "Stop doing what, I'm not doing anything." 

"You're distracting." She pulls her book up and sets it back down so it lightly thumps his head. 

Julian grabs her ankle then, not a light touch, but a full grasp, squeezing. He leans forward so he can run his fingers down the sole of her foot. 

Jerking involuntarily because it tickles, her knee jabs into his side. Her book is off kilter then, and it brings her hips flush against him. Pressing where she's aroused from his earlier touching. 

And presence alone. She doesn't need much to get worked into a state because of Julian. Not that she'd tell him that. Changeling male egos don't need any further encouragement. 

"You're a jerk," Naya says, but there's no heat to her tone. Just fondness from the panther that rubs against her skin inside her, fully wanting to give in. Her panther found the other changeling in her far more interesting that medical lessons. 

"Your jerk," Julian responds, returning to the light touches on her calf. 

"I have to finish this." A feeble excuse but she tries it out anyway. She does have reading to do, things for class this week. There's an exam at the end of the month. 

"You already know it." 

Not a surprising statement coming from Julian. She does, know it, that is. She's learned from his mother. She's learned from classes in San Francisco. She's learning now here in New York in medical school. She works hard, despite the man trying to divert her attention away. Plus, she's already read the material and annotated and made her own notations. 

Julian twists, a move that nearly displaces them from the couch. It causes her book to fall to the side, her hand trying to catch it. Then he's kneeling and facing her, broad palms cupping her thighs. "You could practice on me," he says, sly smile flirting at the edge of his mouth. 

Blinking, Naya frowns in disapproval even as she shuts the book and tips it to the floor. "You enjoy that game way too much." 

He pitches his voice low, "Oh please, Dr. Hunter, won't you make me better?" 

She smiles and shoves at his chest, succeeding in scooting him back a bit. "That wasn't funny at thirteen when you broke your wrist. And it's not funny now. Contrary to the expression, you won't die from blue balls." 

"My dick might." 

"Your dick won't," she says even as she reaches for the hem of his shirt. "Off." 

Julian does as she motions. The cotton shirt ends up tossed towards the small table they use for eating on. His green eyes watch her as he kneels bare chested, his jeans slung low on his hips. 

She looks him over, appreciating the strength he has. She could name every part of him on display in front of her. She has before actually, many times. He's become her living anatomy model. The studying always leads to them having sex though. 

"Lay down on your stomach." 

"Kinky," he laughs at her rolling eyes, the panther shining luminescent over his regular green irises for one second and then turns. "Yes, Dr. Hunter." 

The couch's short length requires maneuvering again on their parts. Now he's stretched out so that his head rests where his feet used to be, arms crossed and chin down on them. She straddles the lower part of his waist. 

When she presses her hips into him, essentially grinding her clothed cunt onto his jean clad ass, he groans. "That's unfair."

"Poor baby," she says, tone shifting to something like sarcasm. She repeats her downward movement, even as she walks her fingers across the muscles of his back. 

"Your bedside manner is rude," he growls, the leopard coming forward from the back of his throat. 

Naya laughs, delighting in the way his back muscles clench. She leans down and bites his shoulder, taking this moment where she has him underneath her and he can't dominate her more submissive ways as is. "You like me this way."

His hips jerk but he doesn't roll over. Instead he stays down, mutters what sounds like a mess of _love you this way."_ into his folded arms. 

She traces his back, whispering the names aloud. _deltoid, dorsi, thoracis_ inward up to the _cervicis, rhomboid_ and so on. Over and over again the parts she has to know and the parts that make him up. He's warm skin all stretched out underneath her. 

All hers here in this not big enough apartment, thousands of miles away from anyone who can intrude on them, here in this solitude and quietness she's come to enjoy. Pack is Pack and she loves her parents and brother, but here she is just herself and he is hers. 

Naya lets her hands dig into his shoulders and leans down so that her whole body covers his, her breasts pressed into his back and her hips falling open so she can get pressure on her cunt. "I'm done." 

She doesn't get to kiss his neck before Julian's rolling, hands reaching to steady her waist and set her back down in his lap. "You're wearing too much," he says and then takes her mouth with his. Tongue licking past her lips and over the roof of her mouth. 

Breaking it, she leans back and helps him pull her shirt off, laughing when her hair gets stuck in the collar. There's familiarity in their movements, no uncertainty. She reaches for the clasp of the lacy bralette she has on even as he bites at her nipple through the fabric. 

"Julian," she gasps, nails digging into the back of his neck when he rubs his knuckles over the thin workout pants she has on. It's not enough to reach her clit, but it comes pretty damn close, giving the pressure she wanted. 

He leaves her nipple for her mouth when she ducks down, trying to get him to kiss her proper again.

"No teasing," she tells him, rocking into his hand. 

"I like to tease you," Julian says, nipping her jaw and then sucking quick. Not enough to leave a mark there, but still. 

"Please." She reaches for the button of his jeans, undoing them and rolling the sides down as much as she can. 

"Oh, the 'please'," but he's grinning as he says it. 

He doesn't tease her. They part long enough for both of them to strip their pants off. Then he's got two fingers spreading her outer folds, one finger stretching her. He touches her there and then her clit, kissing her collarbone while she moans. 

They fuck there on the couch, where they shouldn't be able to fit, where it requires her in his lap and their legs cramping up, but she traces the muscles she'd named on his back while he holds her hips and they move together. There's no bond, and she doesn't have her mother's empathic nature, but she doesn't need it to know he loves her. He tells her enough, and she wouldn't need spoken words regardless. 

After, they fall back to the couch with his head on her breasts and her open hips cradling his body. He runs clawed fingers up her side, sliding over her ribs. "Excellent healing power, Dr. Hunter," he says and kisses the sweaty skin of her sternum. 

"Terrible jokes." She looks down at his bent head, curled hair mussed up. 

He's her best studying tool, even when he's distracting her. She'll do just fine. They'll do just fine.


End file.
